


Redeem Me: Happy New Year

by Samayel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 14:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1945359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samayel/pseuds/Samayel





	Redeem Me: Happy New Year

Redeem Me: Happy New Year…by Samayel

 

Grimmauld Place was quiet and empty. New Year’s Eve had come and gone hours ago, and it was still and silent in the gloom. A subtle eye, one like that of a cat, might have seen the changes through the gloom.

Though it was dark, beneath that layer of shadow, many things had changed. The wood of the floors and stairway gleamed with polish. Thick, clean rugs decorated the floors in the most traveled areas. The walls had been freshly painted, and in colors that showed careful thought to blending a touch of the old with a strong suggestion of the new. Much had changed in the Noble and Ancient House Of Black, even if the place was empty and undisturbed at the moment.

An explosion of green light and a WHOOSH of flame and dust, and the stillness and quiet were utterly destroyed. Two young men stumbled into the room coughing, as well as laughing, and a waved hand brought the lamps into play, shifting the gloom and shadow into sudden brightness.

“That was utterly perfect, Harry. I’m jus…just sorry the New Years come a year apart!”

“Mmmphh.” Harry’s response was muffled by warm lips, a situation he was happily used to, and didn’t mind a bit. When Draco got tipsy, kisses came at random, often with little warning, and Draco got tipsy almost as easily as Harry did.

Luckily, he’d also grown used to Draco periodically stepping on his feet when intoxicated, and it was easy to stoically forget about the discomfort that caused. Draco’s kisses had a knack for making Harry forget all kinds of things.

Harry slipped his arms completely around his lover’s back, clasping his hands near Draco’s waist while he leaned back against the fireplace for comfort. He rather wanted a kiss that would last, and the night hadn’t seen a shortage of them, but they were always as often welcomed as they were offered.

The last year had been very kind to them, but then, given the years that came before, it would take an awful lot before either of them would have a day that they would call ‘bad’ again. Possibly even the rest of their lives! 

The New Year festivities at the Weasley Burrow had been a perfect cap to a very good year. So many tumultuous events, and still life had felt right and good each day, even when harried and hurried by endless details. They’d graduated from Hogwarts, despite the delays leftover from the war, and now held NEWT certifications of their own at last. Draco had made the Weasley twins prosperous indeed, and only visited the office every few days to keep up with the newest paperwork. The fledging Foundation they’d formed with Ron and Eileen was merrily delivering students to Hogwarts doorsteps, much to the delight of the board, and was sufficiently well thought by the press to draw favorable reviews, which led to much needed donations. It was backed largely by Harry’s wealth, but it took the burden from him when wizards across the country began to send wealth their way, following the fashionable course of charitable contributions.

They’d seen the arrival of first grandchild, Helena, Bill and Fleur’s daughter, for Arthur and Molly who were now overjoyed by their new status. Percy’s wedding to Penelope, and then Ron’s wedding to Eileen, had all come in the quiet months of summer and fall. They’d practically rebuilt Grimmauld Place from the ground up, not only stripping it of the grime of endless years of misuse, but finally clearing away every reminder of its bleak past, making a home for themselves that looked both gracious and comfortably well appointed.

The year to come would see them turn twenty-one years of age. It would see them still together, in spite all that had stood against them at the start of it. It would see many things, and none of them would be cause for sorrow. 

Draco pulled away a moment, then relaxed and curled himself against Harry quietly, none of the tipsy ardor of a moment ago present. This was just comfort. Warm arms, a familiar and wonderful body next to him, the scent and feel of his lover. He actually had a lover.

He’d forgotten nothing. Not really. All his memories were intact, shielded by Occlumentic veils that discreetly warded his conscious mind against the horrors he had lived through. He still shuddered at first touch, even from Harry, but he settled down quickly. He often flinched when strangers approached too close and too quickly. He had lived an entire year, happy and busy and healthy, always with Harry near or waiting for him as soon as he got home, but there were still small signs of what he knew.

Sometimes it was Harry that woke up in the night. He never screamed. It was just a sudden gasp, and then the muffled choking sound of him trying to control himself and go back to sleep. Voldemort’s presence was gone forever, but Harry could still remember the dark times. The time during which the Dark Lord had dwelt in Harry’s subconscious, hooked to his soul like a leech, fueling killing sprees that had left dozens of Death Eaters dead. There were moments that Draco wondered if he hadn’t had it better than Harry had.

He’d been a victim, first of his own foolishness, then of the viciousness of others. It had been terrible in the extreme, and there were still some scars that would never completely heal, but as bad as it had been, he had been the victim…not the one who had victimized others. Harry had been both at the same time, saturated with the presence of Voldemort, steeped in his hatred, killing others just to let off the pressure in his own mind. He’d justified it without knowing why, by killing only Death Eaters who had fled from the Ministry’s justice, but he had killed, and not mercifully. He’d inflicted as much suffering as his patience would allow when that bloodlust was upon him, and the memories of it all had returned to him as soon as Voldemort had been expelled from his body and soul.

As badly as Draco had suffered, he knew he couldn’t have borne the burden that Harry had. Harry had endured every moment of Draco’s total infirmity and recovery, caring for someone he’d once hated, showing Draco a side of the Boy Who Lived that no one had ever seen before, and now he carried the memories of having hurt and killed others. Harry, for all his fearsome reputation, possessed a truly gentle soul, and recalling what he’d done sickened him more than he could say. He’d been the one who had gently helped Draco to cope with what Draco had endured, and this past year, Draco had discovered that he was capable of the same.

And that, in its own perverse way, had made it a truly good year. What they had learned about each other had brought no regrets. They were closer, and stronger, and healthier with every passing day, and the year to come would be built upon a solid foundation, laid by two sets of hands bent to the task with all their heart.

They had the love of family and friends all around them, and it was easy to believe in a fine future for them all. Arthur and Molly, Bill and Fleur and Helena, Percy and Penelope, Ron and Eileen, the twins, and Charlie and Dula. 

While Draco curled warmly into Harry chest, it was the memory of the night that gave him the greatest happiness, save for Harry’s nearness. What he’d lived tonight had been good, and there was no one who had doubted it. The funny part, the part that still warmed him inside, was that he, Draco Malfoy, of all people, had understood it all, and had known what to say and what to do. 

He’d changed in so many ways this past year. Good food and cheer had made him healthy and strong again, and while he might never be a large man, Draco was as fit and healthy as he might ever hope to be. His scars were few, and those but shadows of the many that had covered him a year ago. His mind was sharp and clear, compared to the frightened and confused morass of emotions he’d once been. And he understood love.

If one single thing could prove the changes, within and without, it was that he saw and recognized love all around him, and he saw his own love for others reflected in their eyes and in their actions. Draco knew exactly what love was, and it had marked his life indelibly as a good one.

They parted slowly, Draco taking hold of Harry’s hand and just smiling while he looked into the green eyes that never let him doubt where he belonged, and Harry caught his breath, still reeling under the spell of the night, the heady sense of celebration, the warm glow of cider still in his system, and the perfect nearness of his lover.

“Happy New Year, love.”

Draco smirked mildly, leading Harry by the hand to the room that they had made truly their own. It was going to be a very, very long night.

“Mmm-hmm. Ohhhh yes…it will be.”

And so it was.

 

FIN!!!


End file.
